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ALEX Frankel was a teenager when he first decided he wanted to work for UPS. It began when a friend who worked there described the day two staff scientists analyzed his every move: how many seconds it took to get from the truck to a customer’s door, how long it took a recipient to answer the bell, the exact degree to which he turned his head to look into the side mirror.

“The level to which the company studied his actions to make him more efficient made me realize he was more than just a guy delivering a box,” says Frankel.

In 2005, he got his wish. He was hired by the shipping outfit, and went to work delivering a never-ending deluge of packages, mastering a veritable lexicon of company technospeak and, on at least one occasion, rebuffing the advances of an amorous housewife.

Thus marked the start of a two-year mission documented in his new book, “Punching In: The Unauthorized Adventures of a Front-Line Employee.” For the book, Frankel, a business writer by trade, went undercover at five mega-retailers to learn how new workers are indoctrinated into a company’s corporate culture and forged into devoted employees.

“I’d read a good dozen academic books on business culture, and the extent that the authors got behind the corporate edifice was talking to a couple drivers on lunch break,” he says. “I knew if I worked somewhere I’d learn more.”

Over time, Frankel, 37, also slung java for Starbucks, sold computers for Apple, foisted insurance plans on dubious Enterprise Rent-A-Car customers, and enlessly folded Gap sweaters.

What he found is that some firms have an easier time inspiring workers than others. Apple, for instance, boasts a devoted consumer base that supplies eager applicants. On the other hand, Frankel notes: “Who’s really that passionate about rental cars?”

Enterprise, as he found, relies largely on the promise of rapid advancement to inspire hires, promising a quick trip up the corporate ladder. It also favors an immersion approach to indoctrinating recruits, who spend a week of training sequestered at an airport hotel before diving into 60-hour work weeks.

At UPS, the training is imbued with a militaristic quality, from the brisk pace drivers are instructed to walk to an esoteric phraseology loaded with code words and acronyms. One colleague termed the company “the other army,” says Frankel, who recalls a “sense of togetherness,” and found himself occasionally regretting he’d be leaving so soon.

The 40-hour training course at Apple gets high marks for respecting workers’ intelligence and explaining the job in simple terms, says Frankel, who, despite having little previous knowledge of computers, left ready for his new role as “Mac specialist.”

Once an employee is put to work, a variety of methods are used to gauge progress. Apple reduces hours for salespeople who fail to sell enough add-ons. Starbucks sends in secret shoppers to determine if employees are competent and projecting adequate cheer; the Gap does the same. (In fact, CEO Paul Pressler secretly visited Frankel’s store one day, to the near unanimous indifference of the staff.)

In the end, Frankel concluded that companies’ efforts to inspire commitment can pay dividends. Even though he was undercover, and had no professional incentive to show up for work, he began to feel pride at learning a new skill or surviving a rush.

“Even though I was a reporter, I’d be in the moment, and my priority was to help my customers,” says Frankel of his stint at Starbucks. “That shows that the company has indoctrinated me really well.”